


High Expectations

by Lecrit



Series: Alec Lightwood's Drunken Adventures [4]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alec has no chill, Alec has no filter, Alec is out of control, Attempt at Humor, Domestic Fluff, Drunk Alec, Established Relationship, Fluff, Humor, Idiots in Love, M/M, Shameless Innuendos, Someone needs to stop me, The Dragons Make An Appearance, Where is my chill?, and so am i, but not really, high alec
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-12
Updated: 2017-05-12
Packaged: 2018-10-31 02:53:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10890174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lecrit/pseuds/Lecrit
Summary: Magnus has had a long day.It was supposed to be a relaxing, lazy day in. He had planned on taking a long bath while listening to King Freddie and let the essential oils unwind the tension from his shoulders. Maybe he would have spiked up the whole thing with one of his homemade martinis.Or the one where Magnus learns he shouldn't make plans, Alec gets high on a potion, and the Chairman is sassy.Part 4 of the Drunk Alec series.





	High Expectations

**Author's Note:**

  * For [QueenCow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenCow/gifts).
  * Translation into Español available: [Altas Expectativas/High Expectations](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11831682) by [merrick_ds](https://archiveofourown.org/users/merrick_ds/pseuds/merrick_ds)
  * Translation into Italiano available: [LE AVVENTURE DI ALEC LIGHTWOOD UBRIACO](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12062496) by [kate_kate](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kate_kate/pseuds/kate_kate)
  * Translation into Italiano available: [LE AVVENTURE DI ALEC LIGHTWOOD UBRIACO](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12062496) by [kate_kate](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kate_kate/pseuds/kate_kate)



> Hello cupcakes,
> 
> This is all [Eydis](https://twitter.com/KalenasBigSis)' fault. (Love you babybear)
> 
>  
> 
> If you're live-tweeting this fucking mess, don't forget to use the #lecrit hashtag ;).
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
>  
> 
> Italian translation is available [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12062496/chapters/27717732).

Magnus has had a long day.

It was supposed to be a relaxing, lazy day in. He had planned on taking a long bath while listening to King Freddie and let the essential oils unwind the tension from his shoulders. Maybe he would have spiked up the whole thing with one of his homemade martinis.

He had plans to visit Catarina in the afternoon to share the latest gossips and drink just enough margaritas to get a pleasant buzz as he went on with the rest of the day. Which basically involved doing some grocery shopping to prepare a romantic dinner with his husband, who had managed to clear his schedule for the entire evening.

Being the High Warlock of Brooklyn and marrying the head of the New York Institute meant those nights were few, and were thus to be cherished.

The day had actually started perfectly. Magnus had woken up to the sight of a shirtless Alec getting ready for the day, hair still wet from the shower, rummaging in the closet to decide on which - black - shirt to wear, the muscles of his back flexing as he moved. He had snapped his fingers and a shirt - dark blue, because Magnus had somehow managed to bring some colors into Alec’s wardrobe at some point in their relationship - had magically flown out of the closet to land in Alec’s hand.

His smile when he had turned around to see Magnus awake had been nothing short of breathtaking. He had strode the distance between them and climbed back into their bed to greet Magnus with a morning kiss that had left him breathless and lightheaded, both their faces painted with matching joyful grins.

Alec had murmured he would see him in the evening, that he couldn’t wait, and Magnus had hummed, his fingers trailing down Alec’s spine in a clear promise of what exactly their evening would entail.

Alec had left, then, and Magnus had leaped out of bed and slipped into his robe, heading to the kitchen only to find that Alec had cooked breakfast and left a note for him, that merely said  _ “See you tonight. I love you.” _ but was more than enough to bring a wide grin to Magnus’ lips that he was sure would last him for the rest of the day.

At least, he had thought so.

He had barely had the time to nibble on his first pancake and his phone had rung. Magnus had been tempted to ignore it because it was his day off and even the High Warlock of Brooklyn was entitled to a few of those every now and then, but Tessa’s name had flashed on the screen, and he had hoped it was only a social call.

It hadn’t been. An hour later, he had been leaving for the Spiral Labyrinth, after texting Alec that he would make sure to make it on time for their evening, and Catarina to postpone.

Magnus sometimes cursed his unequaled - and certainly matchless - knowledge in demonic languages. If anyone had been half as talented as he was in that matter, Magnus would have pointed Tessa their way, but it was a life or death matter as well as an emergency, so he had gone without a third thought - he had had a second one, but had quickly swept it aside.

Nose buried in ancient books and working in the urgency that the situation called for was certainly not the way he had imagined to spend his day off but their hard work had paid off, because they had managed to heal the young warlock who had stumbled upon a dark artifact, and she would be fine.

 

So, Magnus has had a long day.

It has been worth wasting his day off, but he barely has the energy left to summon a portal back to New York. Time has fled and it is already late afternoon. His plan to cook a romantic dinner for him and Alec has vanished with his responsibilities, so he portals to their favorite Indian restaurant instead of home, settling for the next best thing.

That is when his day - which had already been admittedly quite disastrous - gets worse.

The thing about keeping the Spiral Labyrinth a secret in these modern days is that now they have to be much more careful. So, to avoid any harmful tracking through modern technologies, there is little to no reception in there.

He barely has the time to take a step inside the restaurant that his phone is buzzing with insistence in his pocket, the kind of insistence that screams of something terrible happening. When he plucks it out, he has seventeen missed calls and twice as many text messages, all from either Isabelle or Jace.

He only reads one of them - the first one he sets his eyes on, from Isabelle - before he is out of the door.

_ Alec got hurt. We’re at your place. _

Suddenly, his energy has been restored and as he runs to the back alley to summon a portal home, his heart is rummaging in his chest, his ears ringing with a dawning sense of sheer and utter terror.

The loft is quiet when he gets there, but the peaceful atmosphere is only temporary, and as soon as he steps in the living room, it is gone.

Jace is on him in a second, eyes wide. “Where the hell were you?” he blurts out. “We called you a thousand times.”

Magnus would roll his eyes at Jace’s dramatic tendencies if he weren’t completely focused on Alec’s figure, lying down on their sofa, eyes shut and chest thankfully rising up and down in slumber.

There’s a nasty bruise on his jaw, and another one on his ribs, both already fading thanks to the Healing rune one of his siblings must have applied, and his brows are furrowed even in sleep.

“I was in the Spiral Labyrinth,” he replies as he walks up to his husband, waving dismissively over his shoulder in Jace’s general vicinity. “I just got all your calls and messages. What happened?”

“We were investigating on that demon nest in Windsor Terrace and we got ambushed,” Isabelle eludes, arms crossed tightly over her chest as if hugging herself. Her eyes are filled with concern, and although she is talking to Magnus, her gaze doesn’t waver from Alec for a moment. “We fought them off but we somehow missed one of them. It launched itself at me, but Alec pushed me out of the way and took the blow instead. He got a nasty cut on his forearm. Nothing too bad, but then he started convulsing.”

Magnus clenches his teeth, already heading to his storage room. “Demon venom,” he grits out. “How long has he been like this? I probably have some time left before it reaches the heart.”

“Magnus, it’s alright,” Jace cuts in, softly. Carefully.

He stops dead in his tracks and swirls around, an eyebrow lifted in inquiry.

“We called Catarina,” he explains with a small smile. “She healed him, and gave him a potion for the pain. Said he’d be out of it until tomorrow but he should be fine.”

Magnus heaves out a relieved breath and makes a mental note to send Cat a bottle - or ten - of that ridiculously strong whisky she loves so much.

“And you couldn’t start with that!” he exclaims accusatorily instead, finally taking the time to shrug his jacket off.

They all freeze when a soft, muffled groan comes from the sofa, and Magnus strides the distance between Alec and him in two steps, sitting on the coffee table and grabbing Alec’s hand in his own.

Hazel eyes flutter open and settle on him, and Alec gives him a shaky smile, tired and groggy.

“Hey,” he whispers.

“Hi,” Magnus replies, not bothering to hide the relief from his voice.

“You have beautiful eyes,” Alec blurts out, with such blunt honesty that it almost brings a blush to Magnus’ cheeks.

He clears his throat, unable to prevent the smile that tugs at the corner of his lips. “Thank you, my darling,” he says softly, reaching out to slide a hand through Alec’s hair, pushing a few loose strands off his forehead.

“No, for real,” Alec goes on, gaze blurry and fascinated all at once. “They’re like… light. Bright. Like the sun. Am I dead?”

Magnus blinks in surprise, lips parting in shock. “N-No,” he stammers bemusedly. “You just got hurt.”

“Oh, okay,” Alec says, in an almost nonchalant tone. “I thought you were an angel. Well, if you’re not, I’m gonna have to ask you to leave me alone, Sir. You’re very sparkly and beautiful and you have sunny eyes but I’m married.”

Magnus opens his mouth to answer, but the words stumble against the lump in his throat.

He hears movement behind him and Jace is sitting next to him, eyes riveted on Alec.

“Are you… high?”

“No, I’m Alec,” he replies, in a tone that suggests evidence and seems to be quite frankly insulting Jace’s intelligence.

The silence that follows is deafening, but Alec doesn’t mind. Instead, he glances back at Magnus with hooded eyes.

“You’re pretty,” he says, speech somewhat slurred. “I’m pretty too. I know because my husband told me I was.”

It seems to be all Jace needs to burst into laughter, but the sound is quickly muffled with pain when Magnus elbows him in the ribs roughly.

“Darling,” he says softly, squeezing Alec’s hand gently to get his attention back where it had wavered to Jace, an infectious smile spreading on his lips at his parabatai’s mirth. “I am your husband.”

“You are?” Alec asks bewilderedly, eyes blown in shock.

Magnus nods, sending him a reassuring smile. “It’s been two years now.”

“You’re my husband?” Alec repeats, and waits for Magnus to nod again before looking for a confirmation on Jace and Isabelle’s faces. When they acquiesce as well, his eyes widen even further. “Shit,” he drawls, dragging the vowel in astonishment. “You’re gorgeous! I scored big!”

The unabashed pride on his face is almost blinding, and Magnus bites on his bottom lip to refrain from grinning like an idiot.

His fingers slip into his hair again. “That makes two of us.”

He winks, and Alec tries to reciprocate, but ends up blinking instead.

“How are you feeling?” Isabelle asks warily, leaning in to study Alec’s glassy eyes.

“Good, good, good,” he says, nodding quickly. “My jaw hurts.”

Magnus frowns, trailing his fingers lightly over the bruise there.

Alec purses his lips into a pout, hazel eyes wide with sorrow. “Now I can’t suck cock.”

Magnus chokes on his own spit, both Isabelle and Jace snorting behind him.

“I’m never going to suck cock again,” Alec goes on, desperation edging his every word. “It was my favorite thing to do in the whole world.”

“I’m sure we can think of a few things that would top that,” Magnus offers gently, chewing on his bottom lip. It might qualify him as a terrible husband, but he is finding it hard not to laugh.

At least, he is trying, unlike Alec’s siblings who are snickering behind their hands.

Alec shakes his head, heaving out a dramatic sigh, because apparently, high Alec is all for embracing his inner Jace. “No. This is a disaster.”

He seems to recover fairly quickly, however, because soon enough, his attention is back on Magnus. “Are we really married?”

Magnus smiles, tilting his head to the side to catch his gaze. “We are, babe.”

“I’m sorry I won’t be able to suck cock anymore,” Alec says, with all the candeur his fuzzy mind allows now. “My jaw is dead.”

“It’s alright, Alexander,” he replies, chuckling despite his better judgment. “Your jaw is going to heal. The potion Catarina gave you is just making things a bit fuzzy right now.”

“Very fuzzy,” Alec corrects dutifully. “Everything is weird. When I close my eyes, I can’t see.”

As if to demonstrate, he shuts his eyes, a panicked gasp slipping past his mouth.

“I’m blind,” he sighs in defeat.

“Open your eyes, darling.”

Alec obliges, and his eyes widen as he does, traveling around the room before they settle on Magnus again.

“Woah,” he breathes out. “You’re magical. You healed my eyes.”

His grin broadens, and he reaches out to touch Magnus’ face, brushing his fingers over his cheek ever so slightly. “So beautiful,” he murmurs. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Magnus,” he says, a pleased smirk pulling on his lips. “Your husband.”

“Magnus,” Alec repeats, testing the word on his tongue. “Magnus. Magnus. My husband Magnus. Magnus Bane.”

“That’s it,” he exclaims joyfully, and thinks he shouldn’t be so thrilled that his husband remember his name but… well, this is what his day is going to be. “Magnus Lightwood-Bane, to be exact.”

“Because we’re married,” Alec says with a serious frown. “I’m so lucky. Are you a model?”

“No, babe,” Magnus chuckles. “I’m the High Warlock of Brooklyn.”

Alec leans back into the couch, smirking. “I so win at life,” he mumbles, closing his eyes again and humming to himself.

Magnus darts his eyes back to Isabelle and Jace, who are both obviously hesitating between cooing and laughing, and he shrugs.

“He’ll be fine,” he tells them, fingers brushing over Alec’s wrist. “His heartbeat is still a bit frantic but he’ll be okay.”

“That’s because my husband is in the room,” Alec chimes in, although his eyes remain shut.

Jace laughs, throwing his head back. “Who knew we’d have to get him high to get the smoothness out of him?”

Magnus rolls his eyes. Before he can reply, however, an insistent mewl resounds through the room and the Chairman bolts in, leaping on Alec’s lap at once.

Alec startles, picking the cat up and cradling him against his chest. The Chairman lets him gladly, purring loudly.

Alec’s eyes widen once more as they dart back to them. “Guys,” he murmurs, as if he is about to share a great secret with them.

He stops then, and when they stand there staring at him in silence, he releases an exasperated sigh, motioning for them to come closer.

They lean in together.

“I think I’m Catwoman,” Alec whispers, rubbing his nose in the Chairman’s fur. “Or Catman. Catgayman. A gay male Catwoman. I can talk to cats.”

The Chairman mewls in approval, and Alec beams at them. “See?”

“And what do cats usually talk about?” Jace asks, in a serious tone that does little to hide the playful mockery underneath. “Their favorite kibble? How Garfield is a disgrace to their kind?”

“The discrimination against Downworlders,” Alec replies bluntly. “Chairman thinks it’s bullshit. I agree with him. He talks about the crisis at the Los Angeles Institute too. He’s a very political cat. Also, my husband Magnus. He talks about Magnus a lot.”

His frown turns into a smile when his - still glassy - gaze focuses on Magnus again. “You have the prettiest eyes,” he blurts out abruptly, and promptly buries his nose in the Chairman’s fur, leaving Magnus to blink and fight back yet another blush.

“I somehow doubt Chairman Meow is that articulated,” Jace puts in.

The cat seems to disapprove, for he sends him a bored look and mewls in his direction.

“He told you to shut up,” Alec quips cheerfully.

“That’s my baby boy,” Magnus coos, reaching up to scratch between the Chairman’s ears. The cat leans into his hand, purrs intensifying.

Jace grumbles under his breath and crosses his arms against his chest. “This is ridiculous.”

Alec reaches over to pat his head gently. “Don’t worry,” he tells him with an amiable smile. “You’re my favorite parabatai.”

Jace’s frown deepens. “I’m your  _ only _ parabatai.”

“Well, less competition for you,” Alec retorts with a shrug.

He leans back into the sofa, the Chairman tugged safely against his chest. “I can’t believe my husband is a warlock model,” he muses out loud. “And I can talk to cats. This is the best day of my life.”

Magnus tries not to take offense because well… wedding day, maybe? No?

“You’re literally drugged out of your mind,” Jace points out.

Alec giggles, his eyes lighting up with mischief and glee all at once. “Magnus is the best lay of my life.”

Magnus shakes his head, running a hand over his features.

“He’s the only one,” Jace deadpans.

Alec seems to ponder on his words for a while, lips pursed and brows furrowed in reflection. Magnus can almost pinpoint the moment he probably screams “eureka” inwardly.

“I don’t need anyone else to prove it,” Alec argues, in a voice that would appear grave and measured if his speech wasn’t still slurred. “But now that you mention it, maybe I should track all the people he slept with before me and run an opinion poll. You know, for science.”

“Let’s not do that,” Magnus says, turning around only to have his jaw drop in shock. “Isabelle Sophia Lightwood!” he booms. “What on earth are you doing?”

“I’m recording my brother while he’s high as fuck,” she eludes without an ounce of shame or hesitation.

“Stop it!” Magnus scoffs, offense written all over his features.

Isabelle rolls her eyes. “Oh, please,” she snorts. “Don’t act like you don’t still watch Simon’s videos of him completely hammered. Regularly. You’ll thank me for this later.”

“He won’t,” Magnus says, gesturing to Alec, who is now carefully examining Chairman’s paws, one by one.

Isabelle’s smirk turns feral, and Magnus is reminded at once why she makes such a fierce fighter.

“He’ll be nice,” she says, waving her phone in front of his eyes. “I have leverage.”

Magnus heaves out a deep breath, and turns back to his husband. “You have terrible siblings, darling,” he sighs. “Except little Max. Little Max is great.”

Alec shakes his head, but stops abruptly, staring between Magnus and Jace, mouth dropping open in shock.

Magnus lifts an eyebrow, carefully leaning closer. “Darling? Is everything alright?”

The look on Alec’s face is one of pure betrayal. “Magnus, I can’t believe you hid your twin brother from me all these years,” he says, utterly affronted. “I thought we told each other everything.”

Magnus frowns. “What? I don’t have a twin brother.”

Alec glares at him, and he would look much more intimidating if he didn’t have a tiny cat huddled against his naked torso. “Oh, really?” he calls out, lips pursed in defiance. “Well, then who’s the man next to you?”

Magnus darts a look at his side, but Jace sends back an unhelpful confused glance.

“That’s your brother,” he says slowly. “Jace.”

Alec releases an exasperated groan. “I know who Jace is. The man between you and Jace.”

Magnus blinks, and lets the silence stretch for long enough for Alec to realize his mistake.

He doesn’t.

“There’s no one between me and Jace.”

Alec rolls his eyes, annoyance plain on his handsome features. “Yes,” he snaps, “there’s another Magnus!”

Neither Magnus nor any of Alec’s siblings have the time to respond, because the irritation is already slipping away, quickly replaced by a smirk, hazel eyes glimmering with mischief.

“Mind you,” he drawls out, sending Magnus a conniving glance. “That could take an interesting turn. Do you remember that talk we had the other day? About kinky stuff. You know, regarding that threesome thing. How about we -”

“Stop,” Magnus and Jace yell in a same voice, and Alec shuts his mouth at once, startling in surprise.

The Chairman jumps out of his arms in fright and runs out of the room, while Isabelle cackles loudly in their backs.

“Now you remember him!” Jace blurts out accusingly.

“No, please, Alec,” she manages to slip through her mirth. “Do tell us more.”

Alec beams, but Magnus slams a hand against his mouth before he can say a word, glaring. “Do not,” he hisses threateningly.

He feels Alec pout beneath his hand, his eyes dropping in sorrow. Sighing, Magnus leans forward to press a quick kiss on his forehead.

“I’m going to let you go, and you are not going to talk about our private and sexual life with your siblings, okay?” he says softly. He pauses, waiting for Alec to nod. “I wouldn’t want to have to punish you,” he adds with a smirk, chuckling at the eager spark that flashes in his husband’s eyes.

“Oh, come on!” Jace exclaims, jerking up to his feet. “You’re not high, Magnus. You have no excuse!”

Magnus throws him a malicious look over his shoulder. “I’m the High Warlock of Brooklyn, darling,” he says, winking. “I never need an excuse. I just do and say what I want.”

Jace rolls his eyes dramatically, and crosses the room to grab his jacket. “Well, now that we know he is perfectly fine apart from his cocksucking problem, let’s go, Izzy.”

“But -” she starts, but Jace is already throwing her her own jacket.

“Magnus is more than able to take care of his husband,” he says, leaving no room for negotiation. “I don’t want to be scarred for life by Alec’s lack of filter again. And you’ve already got enough on that video to have leverage for the next ten years.”

Isabelle seems to ponder on his words for a second but eventually she nods, shrugging her jacket on. “You sure you’ll be fine?” she asks Magnus, and the fierce, protective spark that is so inherent to the Lightwoods is back in her eyes.

Magnus dismisses her with a flourish of his hand. “I can take care of him,” he says pointedly. “You two go so I can mourn my perfect evening in peace.”

Isabelle’s glance is sympathetic as she leans in to press a kiss to his cheek, and one to Alec’s forehead.

“Call me if you need a hand,” she calls over her shoulder.

“Don’t worry, Izzy,” Alec hoots back. “I have two hands if Magnus needs some.”

The sound of crystalline laughter is the last thing they hear before she and Jace are out of the door.

Magnus heaves out a deep, relieved sigh, and turns toward his husband, who is staring back at him with hooded eyes.

“Did I tell you how beautiful your eyes are?” Alec asks.

“A few times, yes,” Magnus says, but he can’t help but smile.

“Good,” Alec says with a nod, seemingly proud of himself. “You should know.”

Magnus chuckles fondly, and shoots up to his feet. “Thank you, darling,” he says, but before he can step away, Alec is gasping in horror.

“Where are you going?” he blurts out. He sits up in a flash and rises from the sofa, only to sway on his feet, arms held up in front of himself.

Magnus steadies him, gripping his elbows tightly. “Hey, easy, Alexander,” he murmurs gently.

“Where are you going?” Alec inquires again, in what is definitely a pout.

“Just to make some tea,” Magnus replies, gesturing vaguely over his shoulder in the direction of the kitchen.

“Can I hold your hand?” Alec asks, but he is already grabbing Magnus’ before he can answer, and really, it was a dumb question from the start, because Magnus could never say no to his husband when he is looking at him with big, hazel eyes, full of guileless hope.

Magnus squeezes his hand gently and leads the way to the kitchen, wary not to walk too fast so Alec can follow with wary but steady steps.

It quickly appears that Alec isn’t going to let go anytime soon. When Magnus stops in front of the kettle and tries to get his hand back, it remains stubbornly tucked into Alec’s, and when he swirls to face him, Alec just smiles, soft, and calm, and utterly breathtaking.

So Magnus just snaps his fingers to fill the kettle with water and turn it on. Because why would the High Warlock of Brooklyn need his two hands, anyway?

Their teas are ready in no time, and Alec still refuses to let go of him, so Magnus settles for going back to the living room to sit on the sofa, sipping his cup quietly.

Clearly, coming home to his husband high enough to rival the angel's ascension hadn't been in his plan for a perfect day, but at least he knows Alec will be alright, and he is right there, humming quietly under his breath again.

Chairman Meow trots back into the room, now safe from the evil siblings, and whines loudly as he leaps between them, before curling up against Alec's crossed legs.

“What did he say?” Magnus asks, because now that Jace and Izzy are gone, he can drop the facade and tease his husband a little.

“Meow,” Alec replies matter-of-factly.

“You can't speak cat anymore?” he snorts, chewing on his bottom lip.

The Shadowhunter throws him a shocked glance. “How do you know I can speak cat?”

Magnus laughs, and leans forward to press a quick peck against his lips but doesn't reply.

Alec grins all the same, eyes lighting up at once.

“You’re very nice.”

Magnus smirks. “Thank you, darling. To you, always.”

“And very polite,” Alec adds. “And very pretty. Am I a good husband to you?”

“Very good, when you don’t get yourself almost killed and give me quite a fright,” Magnus says, with a smile softer than he had intended to.

Alec purses his lips in a silent apology. “I’ll try not to do that anymore then,” he says with sudden resolve. “I’ll be a better husband.”

If Magnus’ heart melts right here and then, well, perhaps he is defying everything science and anatomy have ever taught him, but he is an immortal centuries-old warlock and the son of a Fallen Angel, so no one is actually going to dare tell him so.

“You’re perfect,” Magnus declares, and he wonders if anything he has ever said in his many years of existence has ever been so true.

Alec’s consideration, however, has already drifted elsewhere. To the Chairman, more exactly, who is nibbling at his fingers in a clear - and frankly, dramatic, but Magnus raised that cat, so he supposes he can only blame himself - cry for attention.

“Do you think we should find him a husband?” Alec asks, and it takes Magnus a second to realize he means the Chairman. “He should have his own Magnus. Everyone should have a Magnus.” He pauses, brows furrowed. “As long as it’s not mine,” he adds after reflection.

“Well, I would suggest Church but I’m not letting that devil of a cat anywhere near my Chairman,” Magnus puts in, because apparently, this is a serious conversation they’re having between adult adults.

This day just keeps getting weirder. 

Chairman blinks lazily at them, and meows, a faint, quiet sound of protest.

Magnus is going mental.

“He said he doesn’t want to get married,” Alec chimes in helpfully. Or unhelpfully. Magnus isn’t sure anymore.

He finishes his tea in a quick gulp and raises to his feet. Alec gives him a panicked glance but doesn’t dare to move and disturb the Chairman’s peaceful slumber.

He opens his mouth to protest, but Magnus lays a finger against his lips, shushing him quietly. “I’m just going to the bathroom and to take a quick shower, Alexander. I spent the whole day in the Spiral Labyrinth, I feel filthy.”

Alec smirks at that, and Magnus rolls his eyes. “You used to be so innocent,” he sighs, but there’s nothing but amusement layering his tone - and not an ounce of regret.

“I also used to be a child, but I grew out of that as well,” Alec retorts, nipping at his finger, and Magnus narrows his eyes, wondering inwardly how exactly High Alec manages to be articulate solely when innuendos or sex talks are involved.

“I’ll be quick,” Magnus says, and leans in to drop a quick kiss against his mouth.

Despite how short, the shower is heavenly, steamy water soothing the tension in his body, and Magnus allows himself a moment to remind himself that Alec is going to be okay, that his injuries are already fading under the power of the iratze, and that he is going to get back to normal. The thought sticks in his mind, though, and when he gets out of the shower, wrapping himself in a fluffy towel, he grabs his phone, which is still buzzing from the overwhelming amount of missed calls and messages from earlier.

He quickly deletes them all, and sends a quick grateful text to Catarina before swirling his hand in a flourish to get dressed in a comfortable pair of yoga pants and one of Alec’s dull black t-shirts that has stretched enough with age that it looks three sizes too big for both of them.

He is just finishing wiping his hair dry when a loud crash echoes all the way from the living room.

Magnus doesn’t have the time to panic, though, because Alec’s voice is rising above the noise, a hint of panic in his tone.

“Magnus,” he calls out hesitantly. “Jace broke your vase.”

Magnus shakes his head, and chuckles. “Jace left an hour ago, darling,” he says as he opens the bathroom door to make sure Alec can hear him.

Only deep silence answers him, and Magnus can picture Alec standing in the middle of the living room, watching the mess he has undoubtedly made with blown eyes, brain running as quickly as it can to find a proper explanation, or culprit.

Alec clears his throat. “Magnus,” he calls again, in the exact same tone. “Chairman broke your vase.”

Magnus rolls his eyes, and glares at his traitorous self reflected in the mirror who is smiling despite all the willpower Magnus wants to put against it. He snaps his fingers, and bites his bottom lip when a loud gasp resounds all the way to the bathroom.

“Never mind,” Alec exclaims, astonishment layering the casual tone he fails to convey. “I fixed it with my magical glare. Your warlock thingy is probably contagious.”

When he gets back to the living room, Alec is on the sofa, wrapped in one of their rainbow-colored blankets and he is smiling down at his phone, his eyes crinkling at the corners in that way that makes Magnus’ toes curl and his stomach squirm pleasantly.

“Are you texting someone?” he inquires as he joins him on the sofa. “I’m not sure High Alec is any more trustworthy with a phone than Drunk Alec is.”

Alec’s eyes broaden in a perfect renaction of a deer caught in headlights and he slams his phone against his chest, hiding the screen from view. “No!”

Magnus quirks an eyebrow, kneeling next to him. “Watching porn without me?”

Alec simply glares at him, utterly unimpressed - and just slightly offended that Magnus could suggest such a thing.

“Well,” he teases, reaching out to poke him in the ribs, “what is it?”

Alec grumbles something inaudible and stretches his arms in a clear demand. Magnus is too happy to oblige, shuffling to snuggle against his husband, their legs messily tangled but somehow fitting perfectly.

“I didn’t catch that, darling.”

“You smell nice,” Alec says, nuzzling against his hair. “I said you were in the shower and I missed you.”

“I was gone for ten minutes, Alexander,” he chuckles.

“So long,” he sighs, and finally allows Magnus to pluck his phone out of his hand.

He unlocks it quickly and can’t help but gasp, halfway between astonishment and cooing, when he sees what is on the screen. He shouldn’t be surprised by the amount of pictures of him Alec has in his phone, because Magnus has just as many of Alec in his own, except half of his are sneaky shots when Alec isn’t looking, whereas Magnus is pretty much posing in all of Alec’s pictures, the ones of him sleeping or focused on something that must be important judging by his furrowed brows aside.

“I don’t like the new painting in the living room,” Alec blurts out, and if it’s his way to skip the subject after he was caught staring dreamily at a bunch of pictures of his husband, Magnus is willing to let him. “We should hang the one of you naked Michelangelo painted instead.”

Magnus chokes on his own spit for the second time that night, his jaw dropping in… he doesn’t even know anymore.

High Alec is wild, and he makes Magnus’ brain uncooperative.

“What?” he says, shrugging nonchalantly. “He really got all the details right.”

“Yeah,” Magnus says absently, bemusedly. “He was quite skilled.”

Alec has zoned out already, studying the walls with unwavering intent, clearly pondering with himself on the best place to go on with his idea. Before Magnus can talk him out of it - if only because Alec will think differently once the potion has worn off and he is sober again - there is a knock on the door and Alec goes utterly still, swallowing hard.

“I think someone is here.”

“That’s what a knock on the door usually means,” Magnus replies matter-of-factly, reluctantly extracting himself from their blanket fort.

“Maybe it’s Khaleesi and she came to steal our dragons,” Alec gasps dramatically, before rushing up to his feet. “I’ll go protect them,” he exclaims. “You distract her.”

He disappears into the guest room before Magnus can say another word. Not that he’d know what to say to that.

Heaving out a deep but amused sigh, he makes his way to the door. “I knew making him watch Game of Thrones wasn’t a good idea,” he mumbles to himself.

Unsurprisingly, the person at the door is not a badass lady with a penchant for dragons, but a small, bulky man, with a red cap on his head.

“I’ve got a delivery for -” he seems to hesitate as he reads the note on one of the bags in his hands, “- Alexander “lol u str8 loser” Lightwood.” There is definitely a question in his tone, one Magnus doesn’t have the patience to answer.

“That’s my husband,” he says, perhaps a little prouder than he had intended to. “My very gay husband.”

The man shrugs, and Magnus wonders what weird things he must have seen in his line of work if all that gets him is a nonchalant shrug.

“That’ll be 317 dollars,” he says, holding out the bags, and only then does Magnus realize that there are many of them, and they all look about to burst out with too much food.

“I… I beg your pardon?”

“317 dollars,” the guys repeats, unimpressed. “You super gay husband was hungry. That’s what he wrote on the ‘additional information’ note when he ordered. He also said his husband was a magical top model and that he was a strong demon hunter so we better not try to start any shit because he would send us straight to Hell. Then he added a PS that said ‘don’t mistake my use of the word straight for an unconscious slip of the tongue. Or the fingers, I’m super duper gay’ with multiple y’s.”

“Go away, Khaleesi!” Alec yells from somewhere in the apartment. “You won’t have our dragons!”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Magnus goes to pick up his wallet from the kitchen, waving his hand to summon cash from their joined bank account. When he gets back to the door, the delivery man is trying to peek inside the apartment, a look of confusion painted on his features.

“My husband is high,” Magnus tells him in lieu of an explanation, and shoves the bills plus a generous tip in his hand.

Confusion turns into understanding and the man nods. “Good luck with that,” he says. “I dated a drug addict once. Didn’t end well.”

Magnus doesn’t have the patience or the courage to explain to that man that his husband is not a drug addict, even more so when it would involve explaining that he is indeed a demon hunter and that he is high on a potion because he got hurt while indulging into shadowhunting business, so he just nods, gives him a small, barely polite smile, and shuts the door in his face.

He looks down at the heavy bags in his hands and, with another sigh, walks back to the living room. Alec is standing in the threshold of the corridor that leads to their bedroom, three stuffed dragons in his arms, a distrustful look on his face, and Chairman Meow sitting at his feet, sporting the same look.

“Is she gone?” he asks.

Magnus decides not to dignify that with an answer. “Over 300 dollars worth of Chinese food, Alexander,” he declares. “Really?”

His eyes light up at the mention of food. “What?” he exclaims in pure offense. “I was hungry!”

Magnus puts the bags on the coffee table in front of the TV. “Well,” he mumbles to himself, “there go my romantic dinner plans,” and he snaps his fingers, sending the majority of it into the fridge before dropping on the couch. “Come eat, then.”

Alec isn’t paying attention, though. He has thrown the dragons to the floor carelessly, and he is rummaging in one of the drawers in Magnus’ storage room which is probably the worst idea he has had that night - only scarcely above ordering enough noodles to feed the entire Institute.

Magnus jerks to his feet. “Alexander, there are dangerous artefacts in there!”

“I know, I know,” Alec replies, waving over his shoulder dismissively - and Magnus does his better to refrain from gasping dramatically. “I’m just looking for - Ha-ha!”

He shouts triumphantly, swirling back to face Magnus, a candle in each hand. Before he can have a chance to ask, Alec is joining him in the living room in two quick strides and shoving one of them in Magnus’ box of Chinese noodles.

“Wait. Don’t move,” he tells him, lifting a finger, but Magnus is frozen in incredulity anyway and he can only watch as Alec runs to the kitchen and comes back a second later with a box of matches. He lights the candle he has unceremoniously thrust in the food, and turns back around, a look of total and utter pride on his face. “There!” he proclaims. “Romantic!”

And Magnus finds himself smiling despite himself, and although he tries to hide it behind his hand, he knows he is fooling no one - not even the Chairman or the stuffed dragons they adopted after one of Alec’s drunken adventures.

“Oh!” Alec shouts, clapping his hands as his face illuminates with an epiphany, and he is gone again, but towards the balcony this time.

When he comes back a moment later, he is gripping a messy bunch of geraniums.

“I’m so good at being romantic,” he notes humbly while shoving them in Magnus’ hands.

There is still a mop of soil at the bottom of the bouquet from where he has torn them of the pot, and Magnus stares at it bewilderedly. His heart skips a beat.

“I love you,” Alec says, dropping a quick but enthusiastic kiss to his mouth.

And then he is sitting down, grabbing a takeaway container and shoving a spring roll in his mouth.

“I love you too,” Magnus says, because he does, so much it seems impossible, so much it makes the world go round.

Alec beams at him, patting the empty space next to him and Magnus shrugs and obliges willingly, turning the TV on with a snap of his fingers. He carefully deposits the flowers on the coffee table and grabs another box, letting the candle fill his original one with melted wax. 

“I’m sorry I got hurt and high as fuck,” Alec muffles through a mouthful of noodles.

“I married a Shadowhunter,” Magnus replies pointedly, and there is a sense of fatality to his tone he hadn’t expected. “It’s a part of it, and I married you for all of you, not just your gorgeous eyes and grand romantic gestures.”

“You have gorgeous eyes,” Alec replies with a smile.

His eyes are still a bit glassy, but equally honest, and Magnus nudges his shoulder softly, focusing back on the TV.

“And you’re a sap,” he says, grinning. “Oh, you’re going to love this!” he adds as the screen flashes with the name of the movie. “It’s about a bunch of scoundrels coming together to save the galaxy.”

Alec hums noncommittally, too focused on eating.

That is until the talking raccoon shows up with the walking tree, and Alec is so offended by the whole thing that the look of utter terror he throws Magnus alone is enough to have him burst into laughter.

It gets better when Alec starts complaining about it or making comments along the line of “Ragnor should know there is a green badass lady out there, they’re both as cranky as each other”, or “So many blue people, has Cat seen this? I’m sure she’d be as offended as I am. Stop laughing, Magnus.”

Alec falls asleep halfway through one of his notorious rants, head on Magnus’ lap, Magnus’ fingers carding through his hair, and Magnus lets himself relax, barely paying attention to the movie now that it isn’t embellished by his husband’s scornful snarls.

He falls asleep too after a while, feeling strangely high himself - but surely on something else.

.

It is the obnoxious, intrusive sound of Alec’s cellphone blasting his boring ringtone that tears him out of sleep the next morning.

His eyes flutter open, but barely enough to see Alec’s hand rummage everywhere and nowhere in search for the demonic device. Magnus waves his hand pitifully, and the phone pops up in his husband’s grip in a cloud of blue sparks.

“You’re the best,” Alec grumbles, nuzzling against his stomach in gratitude. “Lightwood,” he says as he picks up, his hoarse morning voice easily passing for a grave business tone.

He watches, befuddled, as Alec straightens up in a dash, quickly enough that Magnus wonders how his head isn’t spinning before he remembers… angelic superpower and all that.

“Yes, that’s me,” Alec says, before humming. “He’s next to me, yeah.”

Magnus lifts an eyebrow in puzzlement, and his eyes widen as Alec mouths “adoption agency” at him.

“Really?” Alec says, his grin so broad that Magnus feels his heart flutter in his chest in anticipation - the good kind. “Thank you so much. We’ll pop by in the afternoon. See you then.”

When he hangs up, his smile is wide enough to rival the sun that is pouring through the windows of the balcony.

“Madzie,” he breathes out, tears welling up in his eyes. The name is uttered with such tenderness, such undeniable affection, that Magnus can’t help but to tear up as well. “We’re… Shit, Magnus. We’re gonna be parents.”

There could be many appropriate answers to this, but Magnus decides the best one is to jump at his husband’s neck to smash their mouths together - which isn’t a problem at all, because Alec is ready for him and meets him halfway.

It’s a messy kiss, equally emotional and passionate, full of love and promises, and Magnus isn’t sure the heartbeats he can feel echoing in his chest are his own or Alec’s.

When they pull back, breathless, their grins match perfectly, and as they rest their foreheads together, Magnus feels on top of the world.

“I love you,” they whisper together, because it is the only way they know how to make the important statements that matter in their life.

“Let’s not mention to the adoption lady what happened last night,” Magnus giggles, too giddy to be anything more than teasing. “She might make me file a report to certify I can handle two kids instead of one.”

Alec frowns, and pulls back just slightly enough to look into Magnus’ eyes. It makes his eyes cross a little, quite adorably in his humble and very objective opinion.

“What do you mean?” Alec asks, blinking. “What happened last night?”

There is a pause, and Magnus lets himself absorb the look of utter confusion on Alec’s face, and the mischievous glee that is rising in him at the prospect of teasing him relentlessly.

“Oh, darling,” he murmurs. “Let me text your sister. She needs to send me something, and then I’ll tell you everything.”

**Author's Note:**

> No dragons, flowers, candles, noodles or Chairmans were harmed during the making of this fic, which can't be said for the author's brain.
> 
>  
> 
> I'm on tumblr [@lecrit](http://lecrit.tumblr.com/) and on twitter [@_L_ecrit](https://twitter.com/_L_ecrit).
> 
> ❤
> 
> All the love,  
> Lu.


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